Impossibilities
by Cheshire6845
Summary: This is meant to be a 'companion' piece to my story "All that I know". I suggest reading that one first. This is Chakotay's POV to events surrounding Janeway. Angst.


Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Paramount and TPTB. The plot is the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Rated PG.

This story is meant as a companion piece to All That I Know and I recommend that you read that before reading this. This story contains spoilers of a sort if read first.

Thank you QuantumSilver for once again putting on your superb beta hat.

Impossibilities by Cheshire

It isn't possible.

That's the first thought that goes through my head when I hear Harry clear his throat. He only does that before delivering bad news. And any bad news he could give me right now would have to center around you. If he has bad news about you, it must mean you've managed to do it again. Somehow, someway you have managed to find trouble in the most benign part of the galaxy we've seen in months. I really don't know how it's possible for such a petite woman to constantly find herself in the midst of trouble the way you do, but somehow you manage it. Granted, you are a fiery, stubborn, redheaded woman which means it is entirely possible that whatever trouble you have found yourself in, you might have instigated. This time however it doesn't appear to be a situation of your making as Harry reports sudden seismic activity on the planet. Large amounts of seismic activity.

Somehow, before I say it and before Harry confirms it, I know. We've lost your signal. We can't beam you out.

You were only supposed to be gone for five minutes.

I don't know how it's possible, but somehow I manage to remain calm - at least on the outside. Harry reports that the activity lasted only a minute, but the planet side devastation is catastrophic, including at the reception hall. The reception hall that you beamed down to.

As I listen to his report, I can't help but worry about you. I know that you can handle yourself and that you manage to get yourself out of most situations. You wouldn't have made it this far in Starfleet if you couldn't, but when an entire world is bucking beneath your feet the odds tend to shift….and not in your favor.

Tuvok alerts his teams to prepare for search and rescue operations. I call the doctor and tell him to prepare for mass casualties. I have to swallow past the lump in my throat when I tell him that you may be among them. Normally, we'd seek permission from the native government before sending in teams, but with communications down I'm going to assume they will accept our help. Regardless of their reception, they won't be able to stop me from looking for you.

I'm taking the best team with me. Everyone wants to help, but I also need the best on the ship. I leave Harry in charge with Seven running continuous scans for life signs, and B'Elanna at the transporter controls. I'm taking Tuvok, Ayala, and Tom with me. I consider bringing the Doctor, but there's not much for a pilot to do in orbit. Tom's skills as a medic will match anything the Doctor would be able to do while on the surface, and I fear the Doctor will have plenty to do here.

As I leave the bridge, the turbolift doors close blocking out my view of the serene looking green planet on the viewscreen. At this distance, it looks as though nothing has happened. It's easy to imagine that we'll beam down to find you calmly awaiting our arrival. I can picture you with dust on your normally immaculate uniform, helping the ambassador to his feet. You'll turn at the sound of the transporter and give me your grin before ducking your head and becoming serious. You'll tuck your hair back and begin directing the away teams to where they are needed most.

Spirits, let that be the case.

I wouldn't believe it possible. If it weren't for knowing that these are the exact same coordinates we beamed down to last night, I'd never believe it….

Last night this was a magnificent hall with high decorated glass ceilings and the largest crystal chandelier I've ever seen. Last night, you placed your hand in the crook of my arm, and for a moment I allowed myself to believe we were more than just the command team attending an official function. But you aren't by my side this time and only the remains of the chandelier look familiar. As my gaze rests on the broken and shattered crystal lying in the rubble, I pray that you fared better.

Upon seeing the devastation firsthand, I have Tuvok call down the rest of the teams. We can limit ourselves to this government building until we have official word, but I don't want to rely on just the four of us trying to find you. We can hear the cries of the wounded emanating from the far hall. As we make our way through the rubble, I tamp down upon the memories of walking through villages razed by Cardassians. Villages where I heard cries like those I hear now. The sounds that reach our ears aren't the panicked cries immediately following a catastrophe, but more the sort that reflect pain and sorrow: the pain of the injured and the sorrow of the living.

The last readings Harry had of you indicated that you were moving towards the back of the building. When we reach the archway, I sincerely hope he was wrong. Yesterday, I marveled at the dozen towering columns that had lined this hallway connecting the two government buildings. Today, however, only one column remains upright. Only one of twelve remained defiant against the energy that has just shaken this planet. The rest look as though they were grasped by a giant hand and snapped off at their bases like twigs off a tree. I notice the far entrance is blocked by three of the columns stacked against the wall like fallen dominoes. You wouldn't have been able to get out that way.

The room is littered with debris as well as the walking wounded. I scan the room's occupants automatically, but I don't see the distinctive red and black uniform that I am searching for. I catch Tom's eye and he barely shakes his head. The tricorders are only registering about three feet in front of us. The dust in the air combined with all the exposed energy circuits is wreaking havoc with the readings. We'll have to search by hand. If you did come this way, you couldn't have gotten far.

Ayala makes his way forward to help a few of the people that are digging someone out of the rubble. Without his tricorder out, Tuvok moves to the left scanning the rubble as he climbs over it. One of the male officials we met last night is propped up against the base of a column to the right of us and Tom approaches him. I look up the middle of the once beautiful walkway and take out my tricorder. I haven't gotten very far when Tom calls for my assistance: the official's legs are trapped beneath a particularly heavy piece of masonry. I selfishly want to ignore this request and concentrate my efforts on finding you, but even as I think the words I hear your voice berating me for my momentary hesitation.

With the help of two others, we manage to free the man. He briefly regains consciousness when Tom administers a hypospray. He grabs the front of Tom's uniform staring intently at the comm. badge. At first I think he's panicking, but then he raises his free hand and points away from where we stand. I look in the direction indicated and Tom raises his tricorder. All I see is crumbled stone and bent metal. Tom shrugs not getting any readings. I step to the side so the man can be carried away and that's when I see it. My heart lurches. Not three feet away, half buried under a broken ceiling tile is a Starfleet comm. badge.

I stumble towards it and kneel to retrieve it. My fingers shake as they reach out to pick it up. I hold it in my hand and my thumb rubs away the dust. I can feel a dent on its surface and I can't help but wonder if that happened before or after the badge left your chest. I clench my hand around the small piece of metal. I look to my right. I look in front of me. Surely, you must be close. I look to the left. Nothing. Where are you? My gaze sweeps across to the right again and then snaps back to center. I saw something. What was it? Something caught my eye. There - a boot. A Starfleet issue boot with a three inch heel.

There's no way possible. That's it. That's all I can see. Just the boot. The rest of you is buried under stone and ceiling. How could you have possibly survived that? You couldn't have. There's no way humanly possible.

Then again, when have you ever let that stop you?

I rush forward, startling Tom. Finally, I catch a glimpse of your hair. The auburn streak is like a beacon to me. I grasp a piece of broken ceiling and throw it to the side revealing your head and shoulders. The rubble cradles you on all sides and it is all I can do to not reach down and pull you clear of the wreckage immediately.

I stare at the visible side of your face. For a moment I can imagine that you are simply sleeping. Your cheek is unmarred and your eye is closed. The ominous warning blaring from Tom's tricorder shatters the illusion. I blink and see you properly. I see the red path painted along the underside of your jaw, and the hair that is matted and darker than it should be by your temple. Your slightly parted lips are cracked and bleeding. Tuvok and Ayala rush over to join us, but I find myself frozen waiting for Tom's reassurance that you are going to be okay. After what seems an eternity, he looks up and the worry and concern I read in his blue eyes terrifies me.

The four of us carefully begin digging you out from the debris. It takes the combined strength of Tuvok and Ayala to lift a particularly large piece of column off of your lower back. Your legs are clear and Tom has set the break in your arm with an old fashioned splint. As soon as Tuvok has the piece of column cleared I reach for the last chunk of stone still covering you.

I know as soon as I begin to lift it that something is wrong.

I pause in mid lift when I feel resistance. Tom signals me to hold my position making it utterly clear for me to not move at all. He lowers himself level with you and tries to sweep his hand between your body and the stone. He confirms what I already feared: some kind of rebar in the stone has made a bad situation worse.

Tom clears out more of the stone by my feet and we are able to see the darkened stain of your blood marring the floor. He carefully insinuates his hand underneath you and swears. The rebar has punctured straight through your body. We're going to have to cut it in order to free you.

Ayala lowers himself to the floor and adjusts his phaser to a low setting. Sweat drips off my brow as I attempt to stand as still as possible. Atlas may have carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but my burden is far more precious. I hear the whine of the phaser as Ayala begins to cut. The smell of the metal heating up scorches the air. After a few moments that feel like a lifetime the whine shuts down. He looks up at me and nods. I straighten and toss the last stone to the side.

The memory of how you looked in that moment will haunt me for the rest of my days. It shocked me to my very core. Your body lying in the dirt. A metal rod protruding from your back. Precious life being spilled out into the dust. Broken and almost lifeless.

We have to move you. The transporters still aren't working in this area, and we have to get you back to the main hall. Tom directs our movements. He places Ayala's large hands under your neck and head to keep them straight. I kneel at your side ready to receive you as Tuvok lifts and rolls you into my arms. We stand as one with Tuvok and me supporting your petite bulk in our arms.

It was only last night that I held you in my arms - but so differently. How I wish you would open your eyes and laugh the way you did last night as we moved across the dance floor together. I said something about taking the lead for once. You tipped your chin up letting your hair fall away from your face and you laughed. Your blue eyes sparkled with mischief as you reminded me that this culture was ruled by a female monarch, and that it would be expected for you to take the lead. I held you in my arms as I ended the argument with a dip...

This time is so different. This time Tom takes the lead as the four of us begin to walk as one, carrying you as carefully as we can through the rubble to the beam out site.

Is it possible?

Has it already been three days since I last looked into your eyes? I stand now beside your bed in sickbay studying your face. The doctor called me the moment the readings indicated that you were close to regaining consciousness. I take your hand in mine and anxiously wait for you to come back to me. Regardless of how many times we've done this, I still marvel at how small your hand looks in mine. Your skin is smooth and clean with no sign of the abrasions that littered your body less than ninety six hours ago. The only outward remnant that could testify to your ordeal is your fingernails. You usually keep them in a perfect state of manicure, but now as I wait I trace my fingertips over your cracked and chipped thumb nail.

I can't help but think back over the last few days.

It seemed to take us years to get you back to the main hall. We took baby steps, continuously conscious of your injuries. They were so numerous it took all four of us to carry you safely without causing further damage. Once we reached the main hall, we beamed straight to sickbay and the Doctor flew into action. I'm sure you wouldn't approve, but I made you a priority over everyone else. Neither the Doctor nor Tom argued with me. I didn't want to leave your side, but I was in the way. I moved into the Doc's office to keep my vigil from there.

Tuvok returned to the surface taking with him as many people as we could spare. I watched the Doctor and Tom work on you. At times they seemed like a seamless entity with their focused goal of keeping you alive. I sat down and put my head in my hands.

That's how I was sitting when B'Elanna found me. She didn't say much just glanced into the operating area before taking my hand. She placed something metal in it. I looked down to see your dented and scuffed comm. badge. I turned it over in my hand while she explained that Ayala had gone back and retrieved it. She told me that Mike had given her the details of how we found you. Apparently, I dropped your badge when I yelled out your name and ran to where you lay in the rubble. Ayala told B'Elanna that my voice rang out across the hallway, and shook the dust from what little of the ceiling remained. I didn't even know I had made a sound.

I don't know how long I stayed in the doctor's office. B'Elanna left, but I wasn't sure when. I knew I should be on the bridge or down on the surface, but I couldn't leave - not until I knew. I held your badge in my hand as though it were a lifeline to you: as long as I kept it in my hand, you wouldn't leave me. After too long a time, Paris finally came in and told me I could come see you. He didn't tell me if you were going to make it, and I didn't ask. As long as it remained unspoken, I could believe that you'd be alright.

I approached the biobed where the Doctor was running a dermal regenerator over your abdomen. He had strategically placed sterile coverings over you to maintain your privacy and still allow him to work. You were free of dirt and grime, but many abrasions and contusions still remained. The Doctor set the regenerator down and pulled a blanket over the area that had so recently been impaled. He looked up at me and his grief over your condition was evident on his holographic features. He told me about the damage the rebar had caused. He explained the injuries to your lower back which could have resulted in permanent paralysis had he been any other doctor. He described the compound fracture of your arm.

It was only when he mentioned the skull fracture that he got my full attention. I knew even his skills were limited when it came to head injuries. This was the injury that made me tear my gaze away from you. The concussion and swelling in the area are what had him concerned. He explained to me that he had done everything he could, and that the rest was up to you.

Upon hearing this, I selfishly hoped that you had not made your peace with this life while you had been trapped down there. I hoped there was something in that mind of yours that would not rest. I wanted your heart to continue to fight because of some unfinished business. I wanted you to stay with me.

I stayed for longer than I should have. There was so much work to be done down on the planet, and yet, I couldn't bring myself to leave you. I hoped my presence would be enough to draw you back. By your example though, I tore myself away from your side to go to the aid of others. I brushed my fingers across your face before turning on my heel to leave. My hand was still clenched around your comm. badge.

I came back to check on you as often as I was back on the ship. I stayed by your side at night forgoing sleep as long as I could. The Doctor seemed content that you were stable, and he chased me out of sickbay more than once. But finally, this morning he called me. He felt that you would regain consciousness within the hour.

So here I wait, overly ecstatic at the rhythmic rising and falling of your chest as you take deep steady breaths. I study your face and despite the underlying reason behind it, I love how carefree you appear. You look relaxed. If it wasn't for the blue medical garb you're wearing I could almost believe you're taking a well deserved rest.

I reach up to brush a few errant strands of hair away from your face. It isn't necessary, but I take advantage of any opportunity I can. Your hair is soft and clean, free from all the dust of the planet. B'Elanna washed it after the initial onslaught of casualties had calmed. She's been staying with you as much as possible, and she's been feeding me reports on your condition almost hourly. If it weren't for you, I'm sure she'd be tearing our helmsman apart. Tom refuses to let her go down to the surface in her condition. Even comatose, you manage to protect your crew.

You make a small noise and I am immediately on my feet. Your eyes are fluttering and instinctively I hold my breath. Finally, I see your crystal blue eyes. A warmth steals across my chest and I can't stop the smile that breaks across my face.

I can breathe again.

It only takes that single moment for me to know that you are with me. One look into your azure gaze and I know that you, my Kathryn, have defied the odds once again. The severity of your condition doesn't allow you to stay awake for very long. I watch as you drift back towards sleep, and your mouth curves into a half grin. My knees go weak at the sight of it, but I manage to remain on my feet until I'm sure you are once again asleep. I gently kiss your forehead and slump back into my chair.

You didn't leave me. You're still here. We still have time. I offer up a prayer of thanks to the spirits for watching over you. I thank them for putting you into my life.

I thank the spirits for making the impossible possible.


End file.
